Small-Town Face-Off

Billy finally looked at Mara. Her expression was pinched and worn at the same time. He assumed the news had put her on the line between the present and the past, just as it had him, anger and guilt both squarely on her shoulders. He wanted to go to her, even took a small step forward, but caught himself.

“The sketch artist should be here soon,” Billy said. “You can wait in my office if he takes too long.”

Mara’s jaw tightened.

“As long as you figure out who’s doing this,” she said.

“Believe me. I will.”

Suzy wordlessly followed him to the parking lot and into his Tahoe as the rest of the department went on with their tasks. She kept quiet as he pulled away from the department and got on the main road that would lead them to Carpenter’s hospital. However, no sooner had they passed the first intersection when Suzy asked the one question Billy knew she would.

“Is Alexa yours?”

Billy had already resigned himself to following whatever lead Mara wanted to take about telling the department who the father was. But she hadn’t expressed herself one way or the other.

“Yes,” he answered, surprising himself. “I just found out last night.”

He cast a look over at his friend. Suzy, a mother herself, didn’t seem to pass any judgment either way on the information. Instead, she kept her gaze focused out the windshield.

“She’s a cute kid,” she said, as if they were talking about the weather. “I’m glad she didn’t get your nose.”

Billy laughed. He somehow felt better.

* * *

THE SKETCH ARTIST’S name was Walden and he very much looked like what Mara suspected a Walden would look like. Slightly rounded in the gut, thick glasses, a crown of blond hair around a shiny spot of baldness and a patient, even temperament, the man took his time in sketching out Beck.

“Is this close?” he asked when he was finished. He slid his notebook over to her. Alexa, who had taken a snack break next to her mother, peeked over at the drawing.

“That’s perfect,” Mara said, quickly moving the notebook out of Alexa’s line of sight. As if the man could do her harm from it. “You’re very good at your job, Walden,” she added, thoroughly impressed. He’d even managed to add in the sneer that had pulled up the corner of Beck’s lips as he said goodbye.

“I’d always wanted to be an artist, though even I’m surprised that I wound up here.” Walden motioned around the conference room but she knew he meant the department as a whole.

“I can understand that,” she admitted. “I used to dream of running my own interior design business. Now I work at a flooring company trying to convince people redoing their floors is the first step to a happy home.” Mara gave him a wry smile. Walden shrugged.

“Hey, the floors are the foundation of a home. Not a bad place to start at all,” he pointed out. Mara laughed.

“You seem to be a very optimistic man. I suppose your glass is always half full?” Walden pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and stood with his notebook.

“It’s better to have a half-full glass than an entirely empty bottle.” He gave her a nod. “I’m going to take this to the captain now. It was nice to meet you, Mara.”

It took her a moment to return the sentiment, as she was slightly stunned by the weight of his previous statement. She wasn’t the only one with pain in her life, and compared to most, hers wasn’t the worst. Her thoughts went to the teens in the hospital. She looked at Alexa, transfixed by her bag of cereal. At a time when families and loved ones were supposed to be coming together for holidays, Mara couldn’t imagine what she’d feel like if she were to get a call like the one the families of the teens were no doubt receiving.

“Knock, knock.” Mara shook herself out of such dark thoughts and focused on Cassie standing in the doorway. “Now that you’re finished, I’ve been told to tell you that you don’t have to hang around here any longer,” she said, all smiles. Her gaze went to Alexa. “I’m sure there are much more exciting places to be than a sheriff’s department.”

Although Cassie was no doubt being polite, Mara couldn’t help but wonder who’d told the woman that Mara should leave when finished. Had it been a polite suggestion to start off with or had the young woman changed the tone to stay nice? Mara mentally let out a long, loud sigh. Feelings of uncertainty, self-consciousness and guilt began to crop up within her again.

And she hadn’t even been in Riker County for a full twenty-four hours yet.

Instead of telling the truth—that she’d like to stay until Billy came back—Mara stood with an equally warm, if not entirely true, smile.

“There are a few places I’d like to visit,” she tried, attempting to wrangle her child’s toys and food back into their appropriate places within her bag. “Plus, it does seem to be a nice day outside.”

Cassie nodded, following Mara’s glance out of the conference room windows. Every Southerner had a love-hate relationship with winter. South Alabama had an annoying habit of being humid and hot when it should be chilly or cold. Christmastime was no exception. Mara had left her jacket in the car. She doubted she’d need it while in Carpenter, though she wouldn’t have minded being proven wrong. At least in North Alabama, where she lived with Alexa, the promise of being cold in time for the holidays was sometimes kept.

“Could you ask the sheriff to call me when he gets a chance?” Mara asked when Alexa and her things were finally ready to go. Cassie nodded and promised she would. Together they walked past the hall that led to the back door and, instead, moved past the offices to the lobby.

It was hard to not smile at the department’s attempt at decorating. Colored lights and garlands covered every available inch. On the lobby desk there was even a small Charlie Brown Christmas tree—twigs and a few colorful glass ornaments. An unexpected wave of guilt pushed against Mara at the sight. Not only had she disrupted the life of the sheriff by showing up, but she’d also left behind her own planned Christmas with Alexa back home. Decorations and toys, even holiday treats she’d already baked and packaged. But now that Billy knew about her, what would the holiday look like?

The deputy who had given the news of the overdoses earlier gave them a quick smile while still talking to the secretary, another person Mara didn’t recognize. The only other people in the lobby were two women waiting in the chairs.

As she had with Donna Ramsey in the coffee shop, Mara recognized one of them, a woman named Leigh Cullen. Unlike Donna, Leigh recognized Mara right back. She stood abruptly, pausing in whatever she had been saying.

“Thank you again for everything,” Mara said in a rush, cutting off eye contact and disengaging from her spot next to Cassie. “See you later.”

“You,” Leigh exclaimed, loud enough to catch the entire lobby’s attention. Mara had the wild thought that if she could run out of the building fast enough, Leigh would somehow forget about seeing her. That she could literally outrun her past. But then Leigh began to hurry over toward them, her face reddening as she yelled, “How dare you show your face here again!”

Mara angled Alexa behind her and braced for a confrontation. One she hoped wouldn’t be physical. It was one she deserved but not one she was ready to let Alexa witness. However, Cassie surprised them all.

In all of her compassionate glory, she stepped between Leigh and Mara, and held up her hand like she was a traffic guard telling the driver of a vehicle that they’d better halt their horses. It stunned both women into silence.

“No ma’am,” Cassie said, voice high but firm. “You do not act that way in a sheriff’s department and certainly not in front of a child.”

For the first time, Leigh seemed to notice Alexa on Mara’s hip. Still, her eyes remained fiery.

“Don’t you know who this woman is?” Leigh continued, though her voice had gone from an explosion to a low burn. Probably because the deputy’s attention was fully on them now. “Do you know what she let happen?”

Mara’s face heated. Her heartbeat sped up. How had she thought coming back to Riker County wouldn’t end in disaster? That someone wouldn’t recognize her?

“I know exactly who she is and you don’t see me hollering at her like this,” Cassie said. Though she’d been polite before, Mara could see her sharp edges poking out in defense now.

“Maybe you should take a breather, Leigh,” the deputy added with absolute authority. He looked confused by the situation but determined to stop it.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Leigh said. She turned away, grumbling a few more not-so-becoming words beneath her breath, and stomped back to her companion, who’d remained seated.

“I’m so sorry, Mara.” Cassie didn’t take her eyes off Leigh’s retreating back. “I don’t know what came over her.”

That clinched it. Cassie didn’t know who Mara was.

“Thank you,” Mara said, honest. “But it’s alright. I don’t blame her one bit.” Without explaining herself, Mara took Alexa and left the department.

It wasn’t until they were locked inside the car, “Jingle Bells” playing over the radio, that Mara broke down and cried.

Leigh’s husband had been gunned down while trying to stop an armed robbery almost three years ago. His killer had been one of Bryan Copeland’s drug dealers. If Mara had tried to turn her father in the moment she found out who he was and what he had done, then Leigh’s husband wouldn’t have bled out in the convenience store on Cherry Street. Mara knew that.

And so did Leigh.

* * *